


Like Forty Dogs

by MarshmallowNerd



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Domestic Avengers, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Kid Fic, Marvel Cameos, Mystery, Romance, Single Parents
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-28
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-12 01:27:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29752005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarshmallowNerd/pseuds/MarshmallowNerd
Summary: Three months after moving to a new town in search of a fresh start, Wanda's only wish is to do what's best for her twin sons, and to forget everything that came into her life before them. But with a new town comes new faces, and with them, a lesson in letting other people in again.
Relationships: Brunnhilde | Valkyrie/Carol Danvers, Carol Danvers & Wanda Maximoff, James "Bucky" Barnes & Wanda Maximoff, James "Bucky" Barnes/Wanda Maximoff, Past Vision/Wanda Maximoff
Comments: 7
Kudos: 45





	Like Forty Dogs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trying something new with this story! It started out as just an idea, but then I got really attached to the universe, lol. Hope everyone also enjoys it!
> 
> Translations:  
> "Volim te" - I love you  
> "I ja tebe volim" - I love you, too

_**“Once in a dream, I thought I could keep you safe forever** _

_**You held onto me, a beautiful scene, I still remember** _

_**When I’m awake, I hide all the chains, so you aren’t afraid** _

_**I can’t stop, I can’t break** _

_**I carry the weight for you.”** _

— _Once in a Dream_ by In the City

* * *

It wasn’t often that Wanda was the first to arrive. Not without a reason, at least. So, for a good several minutes, she was at a loss of what to do with herself.

The extra time that probably should have been spent finding a good seat, and maybe nursing a tiny cup of free coffee was instead spent hovering tensely near the doors, wondering if she should have come at all. As more people started to arrive, a few souls even asked her if this was her first time. And it wasn’t—far from it, actually—although, she could see how they would make that assumption based on her uncomfortable demeanor.

Once the meeting actually started, she could feel herself beginning to ease up a little. Mostly because the longer it went on, the more it seemed as though she could get away with simply sitting there, not having to share anything about herself at all.

That is, until the ever-observant goddamn Sam Wilson noticed how quiet she was being. “Wanda,” he prompted gently, as he had done with all his other victims in the past half hour. “Is there anything you wanted to add to the conversation?”

“No. No, I’m fine,” she answered instinctively, only to backpedal almost immediately. “I mean…I know that’s what we always say, but I really do mean that. And I know we hear _that_ a lot, too—and I don’t mean to ramble,” she added suddenly, directed to Sam where he was sitting a few chairs down from her.

He merely shrugged, totally unbothered. “You can ramble if you need to.”

She nodded in acknowledgement, though still took the time to scratch behind her neck as she thought through her next words more carefully. “I’ve definitely been, um… _adjusting_. You know, having to move anywhere for the first time, I feel, can be kind of…it gets stressful, you know? Having to set new roots, and organize and _reorganize_ all these different things. And that kind of work overload definitely made it, um…I guess, the word for it is challenging? So, it’s been challenging to keep up with all the usual stuff you have to deal with, on top of the usual, um…”

She trailed off there, not wanting to use such a strong word like “trauma.” Even though that was exactly what she had. It was exactly what she was _supposed_ to be coming to terms with here. Hell, that was what everyone here was trying to address. It was what these meetings were for.

“But,” she said in place of finishing the thought, “it’s been about three months, now—I think to the day, actually—since getting here. I think I’ve finally settled into a new routine for myself. So, that’s been helping me feel more comfortable in general situations, and so…if I _were_ to, uh…regress on something, I…I feel like I could handle it.”

“And have you?” Sam pressed tentatively. “Regressed at all?”

“No,” she answered, and for once, she actually meant it. “Not really. To be totally honest, I’m starting to think I must have convinced myself I just don’t have the time for it. Which, I know isn’t how it works, but you know. Between the new job and managing the, um…well, everything else…”

Sam nodded, knowing and respecting why she was reticent to be more specific than that. “That’s good. _Really_ good. And it’s good to recognize that new stability as the source of improvement. You see…”

He proceeded to go on about healthy coping mechanisms, and some other racket Wanda had already heard ten times over. Although, that wasn’t to say she shouldn’t listen. Especially given how often she had previously tuned out such legitimately good advice in favor of her own thoughts, which resulted in later deferring to her own coping mechanisms that were probably questionable at best.

But hey, at least her ways had gotten her this far.

When the meeting was finally officially over, people were slow to disperse. It made Wanda suddenly feel out of place again, hurrying the way she was to gather her big purse and hustle back to the other side of the rec hall where the folding table for snacks was set up. Three lonely doughnuts were all that remained of the two dozen that had originally been brought in, and she made short work of constructing her usual, crude little to-go box to steal one (a.k.a. wrapping it up in napkins).

She was still in the process of folding a third napkin around the other two she had wrapped around the plump, doughy disk when she turned to leave the rec hall altogether. With her attention focused on keeping the edges of paper securely pinned between the doughnut and her fingers, she didn’t notice the huge figure right behind her until it was too late. Her purse took the brunt of the impact, but a tiny gasp of surprise still escaped her as she collided with a huge barrel chest.

“Oh—sorry!” she breathed, knowing her purse was probably quite a force to be struck with, given how filled it was with work documents and various trinkets.

“Sorry,” the man mumbled at the same time as she. Then, in a clearer voice, added, “No, no, don’t be. I should have…I’m the one who zoned out. I should’ve…”

He cleared his throat in place of finishing the thought. “Sorry. I was just…”

He gestured behind her, at the large, plastic water cooler right by the doughnut box. Wanda took a polite step sideways, allowing him more room to reach it. However, he only lingered in his place, a look of uncertainty painting his features. Wanda was willing to dismiss it as nothing (at least, nothing that was her business), but rather than leave him to it, became distracted as she tried to place where she’d previously seen him.

Soon enough, she recognized him as one of the newcomers to the group. Well…new-ish. He had started coming in about two or three weeks ago. But he’d never said anything, leaving his presence to be just a fleeting memory. That first time he’d shown up, he’d sat right next to Sam, so Wanda had overheard bits of things from Sam before the meeting started. She knew he called the stranger ‘Barnes,’ and that Barnes was apparently a soldier, like him.

Now, Barnes seemed to be internally debating something with himself. He had a tiny paper cup in his hands, presumably from a drink of water he’d already gotten earlier. The cup looked even tinier in his burly hands, though he showed the utmost gentleness with it as he swept a thumb over the surface of the paper. It drew her eyes to the fact that he was wearing a leather glove on that hand, though not the other.

Wanda was about to turn away and head back to her previous path towards the exit when she realized he wasn’t just being careful with his water as he held it close to his chest. He was fighting an urge to fidget, as evident in the way his fingers twitched the exact same way Wanda’s did when she was attempting the same.

“Are you alright?”

The question escaped her before she could stop herself, her inner empath clearly stronger than her sense of logic. Whatever was bothering him, it was none of her business. If he had wanted to disclose it, the time for that would have been earlier, at Sam’s encouragement.

Hell, now that she thought about it, this man was the only one Sam never did prompt, or even acknowledge at all, while the actual meetings were taking place.

For that reason, it was a surprise to her when he actually answered her, albeit after some stammering to get the right words out. “Yeah. Yeah, fine. Just, uh…anxious, I guess.”

“For next week?” Perhaps Sam _had_ been encouraging him to share. Just not in front of others.

He laughed, a small breathy sound that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Yeah, kind of. That and, um…”

He turned a little towards the rest of the room and straightened his posture, further emphasizing how huge and powerfully built he was. Not that Wanda was looking. Even if she was, most of his form was hidden beneath layers of clothing, complete with dark-colored undershirts and a faded hoodie. A type of wear that looked more befitting for the middle of winter than the first few days of fall, where the year currently was.

Barnes nodded at the other meeting attendees, who had all either stayed in their seats or gathered around Sam’s.

“Some of them are wanting to go out,” he explained. “You know, just kinda get together and catch up on…less downhearted stuff.”

His thumb was now sweeping back-and-forth against the surface of his water cup like mad. His other hand went to the side of his face, combing some of his long hair out of the way as he finally chanced making direct eye-contact with her. “I thought…well, um, I’d been thinking of…if you wanted to come with, then—as a group, I mean!” he amended quickly. “I mean…I don’t want to make you feel like…”

Wanda reacted as soon as she caught onto what he was trying to offer, wanting to put him out of his misery. “Oh—no, yes, I see! Yes, well…”

Now _she_ was stammering. It was a nice offer, and to her own surprise, she actually thought it tempting. It had been a demanding day at her work, and she didn’t anticipate the next few days being any better. So, taking some time to unwind and just listen to more inconsequential stories from these people she simultaneously knew everything and nothing about didn’t seem so bad. People she knew, that is, aside from this one newcomer. All she knew about him was that he apparently knew Sam well outside of these meetings, he was a sergeant, and that he was probably the only group member that was always more aloof than she.

Ultimately, though, her pull to go home was stronger.

“That’s a really nice offer,” she said gently. “But I actually have somewhere I need to be after this. I have someone waiting for me.”

Actually, she had a few someone’s.

Barnes nodded vigorously at that. He didn’t seem disappointed, nor relieved, but rather…well, she couldn’t quite place it. Which was odd, since she was usually a lot more adept at reading people. It had even become the root of an inside joke with Carol, who liked to insist Wanda was secretly a witch, able to read minds on a whim.

“That’s understandable,” Barnes replied, ernesty in his voice. He seemed more certain now, as if this was a direction of conversation he’d actually prepared for. Wanda didn’t know if it said more about him or her if that was true, that he’d anticipated rejection from her. “I just thought I’d—I mean, _we_ thought it would be good to be sure. Whether you were available, I mean.”

“Right. And thank you! I do appreciate the thought.”

“Right. So, then…” Barnes dipped his head in one last, small nod of dismissal. He shuffled backwards, gaze flitting between her and Sam nearby, as if he expected one of them to say something. To Wanda, it looked like he might even ask for one of them to save him from the other.

No matter. She had caught a glimpse of the clock hanging on the wall over Sam’s chair. The meeting had run even longer than she’d realized. That pull to get home became even stronger, urging her to scurry towards the exit with one final wave to Sam and nothing more.

* * *

It was only half past eight at night when Wanda finally reached her modest little house at the very end of the street, but it felt like much later. She all but dragged herself through the threshold of her home, setting the heavy burden of her “work purse” down on the end table right by the door. She barely had time to set down the doughnut from her meeting as well before she heard the patter of bare feet against the hardwood floors. That meant there was only about two seconds left before she was overtaken by at least one tiny embrace.

“Mama!”

She crouched down to meet Tommy as he ran to her, having outrun his brother just as he usually did. Billy wasn’t too far behind, though, nearly toppling her over as he ran into her other side, both of them locking their little arms around her neck.

“Hello, my sweet boys,” Wanda breathed, relief pouring into her tone at the feeling of having them both within her grasp again, even after only a few hours spent away from them. They felt like soft, cozy bundles, already wrapped up in their cottony pajama sets and smelling of their orange-scented shampoo. She pressed a kiss to each of her son’s cheeks, with a comically exaggerated smack sound following each one.

While Tommy continued to hang onto her, Billy pulled away to begin tugging on her coat, urging her towards the living room. She followed obediently, lifting Tommy up as she went. They were starting to get too big to be carried around this way, but for the moment, she didn’t mind it. “How was your day, my peanuts?”

“Good,” they answered in unison, though she knew it was merely a recital of what they’d always heard every adult around them answer that question with.

“Mama!” Billy said, still tugging at the edge of her coat, this time purely out of excitement. “Mama, we played kickball today! We saw Johnny Kesler get hit with the ball. In his face!”

“Oh, Billy! We don’t act happy when somebody gets hurt,” Wanda scolded. Then, she realized where she’d heard that particular name before. “Wait, hold on…is Kesler that bully who tried to take your jacket the other day?”

Her answer came from her boys’ weekly caretaker, in the kitchen. “That’s the one!”

“Ha, ha!” Wanda’s laugh was only half-fake, holding out her palm for Billy to high-five. He reeled back to complete the gesture with all his meager, preschooler might. Then he was running off back to the living room, having evidently reported everything he considered noteworthy from his day.

After setting Tommy down to chase after his brother, Wanda followed more slowly, less-than-subtly muttering, “I only wish it had been a basketball.”

“ _Wanda!_ ”

By now, Wanda had rounded the end of her entryway hall, giving her full view of both the living area and the adjoining kitchen. Carol was at the kitchen sink, presumably washing dishes. Her expression was taken aback, but Wanda could see traces of that mischievous delight Carol was known for when she wanted to stir up trouble. A look that told Wanda that her friend was less aghast that the more nonbelligerent one between them would think such a thing, but rather that Wanda would actually speak it out loud.

Wanda merely shrugged unapologetically. “Oh!” she gasped. “Before I forget.”

She quickly darted back into the entry hall, returning once she had the doughnut in hand. “You’re in luck,” she announced as she set the bundle down on the kitchen counter. “There was only one left with filling.”

“ _Yes!_ ”

Carol hastily toweled her hands dry, barely waiting for the hand towel to fall into the sink before she was scampering to the other end of the kitchen. She all but pounced on the crudely wrapped pastry with a playful growl.

Wanda chuckled. Then she felt another tug at her coat, inadvertently helping her as she shrugged it off. It was Tommy, this time. “Mama, can we get a dog?”

“A _dog?_ ” Wanda laughed a little, taken aback by the suddenness of that question. “From where?”

“From school! We saw one when Aunt Carol came to pick us up,” he explained, patiently watching his mother pull her second arm out of her coat and drape it over the end of the breakfast bar. “It didn’t have a collar! Aunt Carol said it was probably looking for a home. It was big and furry!”

“ _Big_ and furry?” Wanda questioned, as if that was the only issue to find with bringing a dog into their lives now. “Well, then, I’m not so sure a little house like this is the type of home he was looking for.”

“What about a kitty?” Billy, ever the negotiator, asked at her other side. “One like Aunt Carol has at her house?”

“Oh, I’m gonna have to stop you right there, little guy,” Carol threw in from where she had moved back to the sink, letting the crumbs from her doughnut fall into the drain. “We all know how jealous Goose gets around other humans that try to steal your attention from her. Can you imagine what she’d be like with someone her own size to pick on?” She faked a shudder. “She’d probably eat ‘em.”

Wanda gave a sympathetic _tsk_ , combing a hand over Billy’s head. “Sorry, peanuts. Maybe at our next house, we can adopt something.”

“Maybe?” Tommy said hopefully.

“When is our next house?” Billy pressed.

“Not for a while, boys.”

They both made little sounds of disappointment at that. Then they scuttled off back to the living room to resume whatever it was they had been doing on the carpet there.

“Hopefully,” Wanda added under her breath when they were gone.

With a weary sigh, she toed off her flats and left them at the shoe rack, right at the end of the entryway hall. As she made her way over to the living room, she rounded the loveseat to find her sons making themselves comfortable in a collection of blankets and throw pillows stolen off the sofas, making for an ideal nest for them to watch a movie directly in front of the television.

A nest so ideal, in fact, that Wanda decided she wanted in there, as well.

On the heels of a louder, more theatrical sigh, she declared, “My, my, how I am tired! I don’t think I can even manage another step…”

As she spoke, she made her way to the heart of the living room. When she was close enough, she made a show of dropping to her knees and gently ‘collapsing’ right on top of her sons. They squealed in delight as she squished them underneath her, keeping a firm embrace around them even as they wriggled vigorously to get away.

“Oh, wow,” she said in mock revelation. “Carol, where did we get these pillows come from? They’re so bony!”

“That’s my bad,” Carol called from the kitchen. “I gave ‘em some milk earlier, and apparently, that causes bones.”

“Apparently.”

“Mama!” Billy cried, his little voice torn between amused giggles and legitimate frustration.

Meanwhile, Tommy actually managed to squirm free. As soon as he did, he took off running elsewhere, likely trying to outrun his mother and brother both in a chase that hadn’t even started yet.

However, when Wanda did let Billy twist free, he only dashed for the loveseat beside them, snatching the one throw pillow that had gone untouched thus far. “Use this one, Mama,” he insisted, offering the bright red square to her.

“Oh, thank you, baby.” Wanda accepted it with genuine relief, propping it behind her head as she rolled to lay on her back against the hard floor. “Yes, this is much better.”

By then, Tommy caught on that nobody had gone after him. He came rushing back, crash-landing into Wanda’s side in what she was sure was intended to be a mimic of her own dramatic collapse onto the throng of blankets. Wanda grunted as his hard little skull hit her ribs, but recovered quickly. She vigorously rubbed his back a few times before pulling him close to kiss his head. Billy promptly snuggled up against her shoulder on her other side, indicating that he wanted a kiss too. Wanda gladly obliged, scratching his head with her free hand before kissing his head as well.

“Say, speaking of pillows,” she went on, “these little noggins should be hitting theirs soon. It’s past bedtime. Have you two at least brushed your teeth yet?”

“No,” Billy answered. “Aunt Carol gave us extra chocolate milks after dinner.”

“She _did?_ ”

“Guys!” Carol exclaimed, an expression of shock and betrayal on her face. “I thought we worked on that ‘healthy juice’ story for like, twelve minutes!”

“Auntie,” Billy sat up, his whisper a pitch too loud to be effectively secretive or conspiratorial. “She’s our _mom…_ ”

Wanda wanted to laugh, though was also rather proud of her sons for knowing that lying to her would be pointless. For that honesty, she decided to let the matter slide with little fuss. _This time_.

“Well, then you can go do it now,” she urged, giving both boys a light pat on their backs for encouragement. “Come on, now.”

Billy obediently got to his feet. Though it was clear he was taking his sweet time to get to the bathroom, for both boys knew bedtime meant Aunt Carol would have to leave (she would most likely be back in just a few days, but still).

Tommy was even less discreet about his reluctance to let the night end, pretending to be distracted by the sleeve of Wanda’s blouse, playing with a loose thread sticking out from it. However, after another encouraging pat and a small “You too, Tommy, come on,” from his mother, he finally obliged. Albeit, while also dragging his feet.

Once she saw both of them disappear into the bathroom, Wanda’s gaze turned to Carol, who was now making her way closer to lean over the back of the sofa. “You spoil them.”

Carol put a hand over her heart, as if taken aback. “If by that, you mean they’re getting spoiled sweet, then of course. I take full credit for that.”

Wanda simply shook her head good-naturedly.

Carol stepped closer, now lingering right over where Wanda laid on the floor. Wanda held out her arms once she was within reach, wriggling her fingers a little. Carol obliged the unspoken request, gripping each of the other woman’s hands and helping pull her to her feet, with only a small groan from Wanda as she left the unforgiving floor.

“So,” Carol said, “how was the meeting?”

“Alright,” Wanda answered automatically. “I just wish it hadn’t gone on so long. Although, I guess in all fairness, I _did_ sort of zone out in the middle of it. And then I ended up staying a couple minutes after, because I got distracted by this one guy that was there.”

“Oh, yeah?” Carol’s eyebrows shot up. “ _Distracted_ , huh?”

Wanda instantly felt heat swarm her face. She realized too late that she had used the exact same word in reference to Carol when she first saw her current girlfriend. Wanda had playfully nudged her, telling her she was so distracted, she didn’t notice she was about to catch flies with her agape mouth.

But this case was different. _Much_ different.

“Oh, no, I—It’s—I don’t mean—” Wanda stammered a bit, ironically reminding herself of Barnes as he tried to invite her to the post-meeting get-together. Or hell, even reminding her of herself for a moment there, when she had first tried to tell him ‘no.’ She truly had been appreciative that he’d thought to invite her, in spite of her knowing that seeing her sons to bed would always be the more preferable option to her.

“It’s not like that!” she insisted as Carol continued to stare at her suspiciously. “He just came up and started talking to me. He wanted to invite me to some…thing Sam was taking the others to. He was just being polite, that’s all! You know, one of those soldier guys, who want to be fair, and think of everyone, and all that.”

“A soldier, huh?” Carol questioned, her expression switching to something more genuine, more serious. “Think I’d know him? Or his type, I guess I should say.”

“Not sure. I don’t really know that much about him, myself. I don’t even think I’ve heard him speak until tonight. He just started coming by a few weeks ago. But he must know Sam personally, because Sam never calls on him. All anyone seems to know about his service is that he was a Sergeant.”

“Ah.” Carol crossed her arms over her chest, raising her chin in a display of mock-superiority. She was allowed that, having ranked as a Captain when she served. “Well, then he probably wouldn’t be worth our time.”

Wanda gave her a light shove against the shoulder, muttering under her breath to be nice. Carol muttered something of her own, as if to brush off Wanda’s comment. Then, more sincerely, she said with a small nod to the door where Billy and Tommy had disappeared through, “But really, you should’ve gone with. I could’ve handled them for a couple more hours.”

“No, it’s fine,” Wanda insisted, shooting a glance over her shoulder, where her sons could be heard giggling over something. Ever since moving, she’d felt a constant urge to ensure they were where she thought they were, as if they would spontaneously vanish otherwise, without that constant hyper-vigilance. “I really did just want to be home. I even thought about leaving the meeting, itself, when I first got there. It’s not like I hadn’t heard enough of that stuff at work.”

Carol’s brow furrowed. “Dr. Strangelove isn’t coming down too hard on you, is he? ‘Cause I can fight him, if he is. He can’t do shit to me.”

“Please, don’t. And you know it’s Strange.”

“It _is_ strange, I know.”

Wanda couldn’t help but chuckle at that, even though it was far from the first time she’d heard someone make fun of her boss’s name.

“But I just thought I’d offer,” Carol went on with a dismissive half-shrug. Then, “Hey, by the way, um…”

She bit her lap in hesitation for a moment, which felt like cause for alarm. It was unlike her to be uncertain of anything. In the past few years Wanda had known her, the former pilot had usually been steadfast and headstrong at every step. Her strong spirit had only ever wavered once or twice in the past few months, in the events surrounding Wanda and her boys having to relocate from their old home. 

Rocking back on her heels a bit, Carol finally finished her thought. “Would it be OK if I asked Pietro to take over next week? Val has a thing, and I’ve already missed the last two gigs, so I think it would mean a lot to her if I—”

“Of course!” Wanda cut in, perhaps too eagerly. She couldn’t quite help it—she was just so immensely relieved that the issue was actually much simpler than she’d thought. “I’ve been meaning to give him a call for a while, anyways. You know, to make sure he’s still got his feet under him.”

Carol snorted at that. “Please. The day that man is unable to run from his problems is a day where I’m gonna have to invest in quite a nice, new coat, because clearly, it has become a frigid day in—hello!”

Her entire demeanor shifted in a blink, going from playful teasing to genuine affection as two tiny bodies scurried up to them. “Those are the squeaky-clean smiles I’m used to.”

Wanda chuckled, bending over a little to rub Billy’s back as he hugged her legs in a display of clinginess that betrayed how truly tired he was from attempting to keep up with his brother (who, in contrast, was more likely to keep going and going until he abruptly crashed out somewhere). “You all ready for bed?”

“Yes, mama,” Billy answered dutifully.

“Yeah!” Tommy said at the same time, slightly distracted by his efforts to climb up his Aunt Carol.

Carol was quick to help him, scooping him up in her arms and dramatically swinging him back-and-forth in the air. “Well, alright, then! Let’s make this quick! I’ve got a finicky cat to get back home to, so on the double now. Hup, hup!”

She continued gently tossing Tommy around as she made her way over to the boys’ bedroom, much to his squealing delight. Wanda followed with Billy close beside her, watching on in a mixture of fondness and light exasperation.

“Yeah, that’ll calm him down for bed,” she muttered sarcastically. Not that it made much difference; the house was so small that by the time the last word left her mouth, Carol had already reached the kids’ bedroom.

With one final “hup!” the former pilot flopped backwards onto Billy’s bed, which was closer to the door. Tommy giggled at the way he was gently dropped onto the bed beside her, his lighter bodyweight making him bounce against the mattress.

Billy burst forward with a sudden, extra spurt of energy to try his hand at climbing on Carol, eagerly seeking his turn at being tossed around. She eagerly indulged him, sitting up to help him crawl into her arms before leaning back again, gently tossing him up in the air as she did. Again, the twins were probably getting too heavy to be lifted like this, but it didn’t seem to be much of a problem for their Aunt Carol.

“Whoa, there! Did you see that, bubba?” Carol exclaimed as she finally set Billy down against her chest. With one arm wrapped around him, she pointed with her free hand to the glow-in-the-dark star stickers littering the ceiling over his bed. “You almost took off right to the stars, up there.”

As Wanda passed by them to corral Tommy into his own bed on the opposite side of the room, she saw her friend lean in close to Billy to whisper in a conspiratorial voice, “You sure you’re not secretly a witch, like your mama?”

Billy only giggled, rolling out of her embrace to crawl to the edge of his bed, leaning up against the footboard. “Mama! Mama, can I be a witch, like you?”

“Oh, I don’t know, baby,” Wanda said in a tone of faux solemnity, sinking down onto the end of Tommy’s bed. “We’ve still got to get a good night’s sleep, first, and then we’re going to have to finish learning that alphabet song, and all those numbers. And _then_ we’ll have to look into witch lessons, and how to fly.”

Tommy wriggled under his covers for her attention, sitting up a little with an expression of slightly more earnest seriousness. “We can’t fly, mama.”

“You can’t?” Wanda reeled back as if in surprise. “Ah, then it must have been my other twins I’m thinking of.”

“Mama!” Tommy kicked his legs underneath the covers of his bed in protest, although it was clearly without heat as he grinned up at her.

Now it was Wanda’s turn to lean in close for a secretive whisper. “Don’t worry. You two are my favorites. Always have been.”

She tucked his green-and-white striped blankets more snugly around his form, as well as the smaller form of his most treasured stuffed tiger with him. Then she leaned in to kiss his mop of shaggy fawn hair. “Now, to sleep with you,” she stated, standing up again. “Say good-night to Aunt Carol.”

“Good night, Aunt Carol,” both boys said together.

Said caretaker was now leaning against the doorframe of the room, having already tucked Billy and his stuffed bear into his own bed. “Good night, little parasites. And you, sir,” she added, pointing an accusatory finger at Billy. “You little turncoat. You better sleep with one eye open after that whole ‘telling the truth’ business.”

Billy only snickered, pulling his bed covers over his head to hide from her.

“Good _night,_ Aunt Carol,” Wanda said insistently, crossing the length of the room to usher her friend completely out of the threshold. Carol made a few sounds of protest—all only half-sincere—as she was waved away, and then faced with a door being closed on her face. As one hand shut the door closed, Wanda’s second hand reached for the lamp on top of the boys’ dresser, turning it on in time to replace light they had previously been using from the hallway.

“Alright,” Wanda went on, turning smoothly on her heel. “So, we’re already late to bed, so that means we’re gonna have to settle for one bedtime story. Who wants to read?”

There was approximately three seconds of consideration before Tommy threw out, “You, mama!”

“ _Me?_ ”

“Yeah!”

“Yeah!” Billy echoed, popping his head back out from under his black-and-red plaid comforter.

Again, only a few fleeting moments passed for consideration of the idea. “Alright,” Wanda said eventually, making her way around Billy’s bed to reach their small bookcase. “I suppose that is fair. It has been a while since my last turn. Which story do we want?”

Billy was quick to request his favorite, ‘the space stones one.’ Tommy seemed to be feeling the beginning effects of his usual crash, so he hazily agreed with his brother.

Wanda wasted little time finding the large picture book in question, and she pulled out the fluffy armchair from the corner out in between the boys’ beds for her to read it from. She had practically memorized the simple story by now, of how six children each find a brightly colored stone from outer space that grants them a special power, and how they become stronger when they work together, and find friendship, and so on and so forth. But she knew it was important to Billy to see the pictures on each page. Particularly the paintings of space where the stones came from, whose constellations Wanda had worked hard to recreate as closely as possible with the star stickers on the boys’ ceiling.

Tommy was nearly completely out of it by the time the story was over. Wanda put the book and the armchair back into their places in a haste, hoping to catch one more good-night wish before he totally passed out from either the sugar crash or his regular energy burnout.

“Hey,” she whispered. “Can I get a good-night, real quick?”

“Good night, Mama,” Tommy mumbled, his eyes already drooping shut. “ _Volim te._ ”

“ _I ja tebe volim,_ ” Wanda returned fondly, sweeping some of his hair aside so that she could kiss his forehead. Then it was back to Billy’s side of the room, where she combed her fingers through his dark locks before giving his head a light kiss as well.

“ _Volim te,_ mama,” Billy murmured. He didn’t seem quite as drained as Tommy, but her stroking his head at least lulled him into a relaxed, quiet state.

“ _Volim te._ Sleep tight, peanut.”

After tucking the covers around him and his stuffed bear more fixedly, Wanda carefully stepped away, not wanting to disturb Tommy as she turned off their main lamp. A single switch turned off the main bulb, and activated the smaller light in the lamp’s giraffe-shaped body. Another switch would have turned off the lamp completely, but Wanda left the night light on for the time being. A few more light-footed steps had her slipping out of the room, sending one last glance over for her own comfort before closing the door with the utmost gentleness.

To her surprise, as she rounded the edge of the hall back into the living area, Carol was still there. Her friend was lounging on one end of the sofa, the previously scattered blankets and pillows now neatly—if not precariously—stacked on the cushion beside her.

“This shit is wild,” Carol remarked, nodding at the screen in front of her as if it wasn’t the sixteenth time she had watched _the Incredibles_ with the boys. “Did you know even the baby gets powers, too?”

“Well, that’s the thing about kids, I’ve noticed,” was Wanda’s reply, some of the tiredness from her day finally bleeding into her voice now that her sons were out of earshot. “They always find ways to surprise you.”

Carol hummed thoughtfully. “I _want_ to make a smart remark about having a cat instead, but let’s be honest, Goose has kept us on our toes just as much, if not more so than those two babies ever did.”

Wanda chuckled, feeling as though that was a bit of an exaggeration.

Then again…

“Remember when she ate that peach pit?” Wanda asked, sinking onto the couch cushion on the other side of the stack of blankets and throw pillows.

“God, yeah.” Carol groaned a little. “She was really testing the whole ‘nine lives’ gag then.”

Wanda chuckled a little at that. “She’s a bold one, alright. The boys have even started calling her a garbage disposal.”

“I know. Billy told me.”

They both laughed then, although it was more to fill in the quietness than out of humor. Then after a few beats of actual silence—aside from the movie still playing at low-volume across from them—Carol let out a soft sigh. “So, next week? You sure it’s alright if I call Pete?”

“I’ll do it,” Wanda insisted gently. “I’ve been meaning to call him anyways.”

“OK. If you’re sure.”

“Mh-hmm,” Wanda hummed mindlessly, leaning her head against her hand and letting her eyelids flutter shut to rest her eyes. Just for a few moments.

Just long enough for Carol to tap her leg with a sock-covered foot. “You OK?”

“Mh-hmm. Just tired.”

“You goin’ to bed right after this?”

“No,” Wanda answered honestly, eyelids fluttering back open. She stood up up to start putting the pillows and blankets back in their proper places. And to wake herself up a bit. “I’ve got a few last things to organize for work. And I’ll probably watch the news a bit. At least, until I hear back from you, and know you made it home”

“That’s, like, a forty-five minute wait, babe.”

Carol said something more, though it was lost as Wanda stepped back into the hallway to store the extra blankets in the closet there. Although, she did pick up the end of it having something to do with, “…if I really gun it.”

“Please, do not,” Wanda pleaded, knowing her friend well enough to know she was probably referring to a dangerous speed to make whatever time she’d just suggested.

“Fine, then. Suffer less sleep, you notorious night owl.”

“I thought I was a witch?”

“They can have many forms,” Carol stated matter-of-factly, sitting up to shut off the TV.

“Mh-hmm. Right.” Wanda stepped in front of her friend to offer a hand, even though Carol didn’t truly need it to stand up. Nevertheless, Carol softly thanked her as she was pulled to her feet. “Just drive safely, you hear?”

“I will, I will,” Carol promised, keeping her fingers wrapped around Wanda’s for a bit longer. “But you actually try to get some shut-eye tonight, OK? I mean it.”

“I will, I promise. Don’t worry, the night is still young. There’s plenty of time to make all seven of those steps over to the bedroom.”

Carol only nodded, appraising her for a few silent, pensive heartbeats. Then, with a purely-curious tilt of her head, “To the guest bedroom, still?”

Wanda uttered a heavy sigh, her gaze ducking to the floor. She knew there was nothing she had to be embarrassed about—least of all with a friend as close as Carol. But still…

A trace of defensiveness crept into her voice. “It’s not every night. Just once in a while. I only go in there just in case. You know, to make it less of a trek across—”

“Hey,” Carol interrupted gently, squeezing her friend’s hands in grounding insistence. “It’s OK. They went through something scary. It’s only been a few months. If they still want to make sure their mom’s OK, I say let ‘em.”

A half-smile touched the corner of Wanda’s mouth. Again, she knew that; how there was nothing to be ashamed of given the circumstances. That it was only natural the boys would have such a clingy response to what they’d experienced.

But still, having Carol say as much out loud was comforting in its vindication.

“But, what do I know?” Carol said in mock-exasperation, suddenly pulling away from her friend and turning towards the door. “I’m just the crazy lady who ‘spoils them.’”

“No one said anything about being ‘crazy,’” Wanda protested good-naturedly, following her to the door.

“And yet, I still heard it,” Carol quipped.

Once in the entryway hall, she came to an abrupt stop. Her hands flew to her chest as if in shock, arching her back to half-collapse on top of Wanda right behind her with a hearty sigh. “Oh! I mean, how dare I? How dare I try to be _liked_ by children everywhere?”

Wanda was hardly sympathetic, gripping the other woman’s waist and trying to push her more muscular—and thus, heavier—form forward. “Get _out_ of my house, already.”

Carol only dug her heels in, apparently having more to say. “Or at least, more well-liked than their uncle. If I can achieve favorite babysitter, then that’s—that’s the goal, right there.”

Despite herself, Wanda chuckled knowingly. Her hands went up to her friend’s shoulder, now hugging her close as opposed to trying to push her away. “You know, it’s funny you say that. The last time I _did_ talk to their uncle, I could’ve sworn he mentioned something about how he was looking at bikes…”

Carol’s entire posture went stiff and her eyes widened at that. The shock in her voice rapidly became less playful. “He better not!”

Wanda only smirked, now finally able to push a compliant Carol’s feet forward. “Good night, Carol. Drive safely. Let me know when you get home. Be sure to include a picture of Goose as proof you’ve made it.”

Carol scowled at the attempt to rush past the previous topic. Nevertheless, she finally obliged her friend and crossed through the threshold of the front door. Rather than leave altogether, though, she spun around at the last minute, bracing a hand on either side of the door to continue the conversation. “Alright, fine. But I’m coming back in a day or two to defend my title as the favorite babysitter.”

“I don’t doubt that.” Wanda held out a hand for Carol to take once more, squeezing gently. “Just take care until then. Get home safely. No shortcuts.”

“Well, now you’re just trying to shoot down _all_ the fun,” Carol joked, pretending to turn away in a bitter huff. However, she stepped right back into reach when her friend pulled on their still joined hands in a silent urge to come back.

After pecking a farewell kiss to the freckle right under her friend’s eye, Wanda bid her away with one more, “Take care.”

“You too,” Carol replied, her voice now void of playful teasing, and lined with sincerity instead. “Have a good night, Gingersnap. I’ll see you soon.”

“Good night.”

With that, Carol’s hand slid free as she turned to properly leave, heading for her car that was parked on the curb right in front of the house. Wanda kept an eye on her for a few moments, waiting for her to actually get inside her car and drive off down the hill that led towards the edge of the neighborhood. Then she was stepping backwards, retreating further into her home to close the door in front of her.

She made short work of securing the two locks and chain there on the door, as well as skimming her fingers over each one almost compulsively, as if to ensure she had truly secured them. There was also a steel bar that had been left on the little entryway table, which she braced against the floor with one, flat-sided end, and clipped around the doorknob with its other, claw-like end, effectively locking the knob as well. She tapped it to test its security, then stepped away from the door altogether, at least somewhat satisfied with her preemptive measures.

Silence and weariness both enveloped her within seconds of being left to her own devices for the first time all day. Though, she knew if she sat down again, she would probably nod off right there on the couch without Carol there to nudge her awake. So, she grabbed her work purse from the entryway table and set up a temporary workspace at the kitchen table on the other side of the house.

True to her word to Carol, she spent a while organizing some of the files she had to have on-hand for work the next day. It was mostly tedium, pairing notes with their respective patients’ profiles in order for the same information to be put in the computer later. Nothing that couldn’t be done at the office the next day, too. Hence, she only went about it half-heartedly, letting her mind wander for a bit at the same time. Mostly to benign, inconsequential matters, like what else she had to prepare in the morning, or whether she wanted to steal some of the boys’ cereal for a midnight snack.

Occasionally, she would get distracted and simply stare out the kitchen window, looking for something she thought she’d seen in her peripheral. Which was admittedly ridiculous; at this late hour, all that could be seen of the outside world were the few patches of grass surrounding her porch light and a wall of pitch blackness. Once in a while, the autumn winds could be heard combing through the branches of the surrounding trees that gave the town of Little Woods its name.

At any other hour, it would be comforting to hear what had become a familiar sound of rustled leaves. Something she’d never been able to hear in the cities she’d grown up in. However, in the dark of the night, and in the loneliness of being the only one awake in the house, it felt eerie. Nerve-wracking, in the amount of possibilities that the combined darkness and nothingness-noise presented for something—or someone—to be hiding in.

Wanda shuddered at her own train of thought, abruptly getting to her feet as if to directly outrun what was likely paranoia, and nothing more. She spent only a minute more at the kitchen table collecting her papers together in a pile that would at least be easier to grab in a hurry in the morning. Then, she went about her usual nightly routine, washing up and changing into relaxed clothing before making the trek back across the house, towards the guest room that sat just opposite the boys’ room. Before she holed herself up in there, though, she quickly checked in on them, cracking their bedroom door open just enough to catch a glimpse of the both of them.

Tommy hadn’t moved at all from the sprawled out position she’d last seen him in. Billy had finally fallen asleep as well, having rolled onto his side to embrace his stuffed bear, snoring into the fur of its neck. Satisfied with the sight, Wanda carefully brought the door back to a close.

By the time she got settled in the guest room, having tucked herself into bed and set up the news to watch at a barely-audible level, she finally got her text from Carol that she’d made it home. Meaning that she was now free to doze off for good if she so pleased.

Which she did.

It was one of those heavy slumbers where it was left to mystery when exactly she fell asleep. She wasn’t even aware she had fallen under until that blissful nothingness was interrupted some unfelt hours later.

To the outside world, the sharp _bang_ sound was probably the next-door neighbor’s car backfiring after a long night tending to her affairs. But inside Wanda’s home—inside her _mind_ —it was enough to give her a jolt, as if a combustion had gone off within her own body.

The haze of lingering sleep fused hideously with memories of the last time she had heard such a sound. It locked her vision onto unwanted flashes of her own hands swathed in a glistening crimson red. The phantom of past fear seized her heart like a vice, weighing her down the same way it had weighed down her every move that day she scrambled into her car. It was all simultaneously too slow and too fast for her brain to process what she was doing as she hastily threw her jacket at the passenger’s side, despite the fact that it was _her_ jacket, and thus, it barely covered a taller, leaner body, let alone all of the bleeding. Hell, there was a question of whether her own blood was hidden by the darkness of her hair, which had been its natural, burnt-umber color rather than the light ginger it was made to be now, because of their relocation.

Her mantra from that day still sat at the tip of her tongue. That endless stream of, “Don’t look, babies, don’t look,” directed at the backseat. An additional remark of “It’ll be OK,” had been slowly climbing in her throat, but even under the throes of shock, she couldn’t bring herself to lie to her sons when she hadn’t known that for sure. All she’d known was that she needed to drive, and _fast._ The ambulance was taking too long, and the only hands she trusted to take care of her little family anymore were her own. _She_ would be the one to get them help, and then she was going to _run_ —find somewhere safe, where her boys would be hidden from this kind of life—

She _did_ find a safer place for them. She had to remind herself of that, just like she had to remind herself to breathe deeply and purposefully, the way Sam had taught her to do during panic attacks.

While she was at it, she also mentally cursed her luck for making this happen the very same night she had told him she hadn’t been experiencing any regressions in her healing process lately.

Evidently, she wasn’t the only one affected by the unexpected, loud noise. The hinges of the door behind her squeaked faintly as it was pushed open, followed by a soft, “Mama?”

She rolled over to face the door, finding Billy already making his way over to the side of the bed to climb it. “Mama?” he repeated once he’d made it up onto the surface with her. He crawled on all fours to get closer to her, curling against her stomach with his fingers grasping at her through the blankets. “Did you hear that noise?”

“I did,” Wanda affirmed just as quietly.

“Is it OK?”

“Yes, baby,” Wanda promised, running her hand soothingly up and down his back. “I think it was just Miss Agatha’s car. You know, the one Uncle Pietro says looks so old, it probably sailed on the Titanic?”

Neither of the boys knew the story of the historic ship, but they recognized the tone whenever their uncle said that well enough to know it was supposed to be funny. For now, Billy smiled a little at the reminder, but didn’t laugh as he probably would have if it was his uncle saying it. Nevertheless, her calmness at the moment seemed to be effectively putting his previous concerns at ease, and that was all that mattered to her.

She didn’t need to ask if the sound woke up his brother as well, for Tommy appeared no more than two seconds later. He didn’t waste any time gripping the side of the bed and hauling himself up over the side, using the light of the TV that had been left on to find his way around his brother’s body. Rather than ask his own questions about the noise that had woken them all up, he seemed content with simply nestling into his mother’s neck and trying to refind sleep there, tucked against her chest (and nearly squishing his brother beneath him).

It took some maneuvering to get her free arm out from under herself, but Wanda managed to wrap it around Tommy, effectively bringing both boys into her embrace. A tangible reminder that she _could_.

Tommy fell back to sleep rather quickly, but she could tell Billy was still awake based on how he clung to her. His breathing was rising and falling at a pace that wasn’t frantic, or distressed, by any means, but it was clear he was not as relaxed as he would be in sleep. Wanda resumed her previous ministrations up and down his back, now with a few occasional massage motions pressed between his shoulder blades. A grounding technique borrowed from her own mother, back from Wanda’s childhood in the city of Novi Grad, in her home country of Sokovia. The life she’d had then couldn’t be any more different than the life her own children led now.

And for as long as she could help it, things would stay that way.

Wanda curled around her children a little more, tightening her hold on them ever-so-slightly. Her mind, on the other hand, began to feel loose and hazy again as it slowly crept back into the hold of sleep. Less so a sleep that was filled with distressing memories or even blank nothingness this time. It was more a product of peaceful exhaustion, eased by the comforting—if not idealistic—belief that here, she could keep all three of them safe from anything.


End file.
